


Burnt Toast, Cold American Cheese

by Traincat



Category: Spider-Man (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Gen, Multi, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 08:05:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traincat/pseuds/Traincat
Summary: “Listen," Harry said, "what do you say tomorrow, you, me, and MJ all go on an adventure?”“An adventure, huh?” Peter asked, finally putting his book down. He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back. “Kind of short notice. What’d you have in mind?”“Get this,” Harry said, holding his hands up. “ESU’s answer to the three musketeers will finally be able to solve the mystery that has plagued scholars for thousands of years: just whatisthe best pizza in New York?”--Set pre-canon and based on an in-game conversation.





	Burnt Toast, Cold American Cheese

**Author's Note:**

> I expected to like Spider-Man PS4, but I didn't expect to be blown away by the character choices. I love its take on Harry, who wants to be an environmental lawyer like his mom, and the way his absence hangs over the game. There's one phone conversation between Peter and MJ I particularly loved about the time Peter, Harry, and Mary Jane went on a "ten hour Odyssey for the best pizza in New York." ([I have a transcription of it here.](http://traincat.tumblr.com/post/178125217824/peter-hey-mj-whats-up-you-okay-mary-jane))
> 
> I originally planned for this to be gen but then I was getting PeterMJHarry shippy feelings while I was writing it and I leaned into it. The shippiness, aside from PeterMJ, is pretty pre-relationship. I love overly affectionate touchy feely mixed up friend groups, and a good Spider-Man friend group always comes through for me there.
> 
> There are vague-ish spoilers for the events of the game and Harry's part in the story, but nothing overt.

“Guess who!”

Hands covered Peter’s eyes from behind, not that he hadn’t sensed the presence of someone attempting to sneak up on him. Still, he hummed thoughtfully, tapping his pen against his bottom lip.

“Let’s see. Manicured hands, the scent of expensive – but tacky – aftershave, and that lilting voice!” he said. “It could only be – Professor Warren?”

The hands removed themselves and Harry circled around the table. He frowned at Peter comically.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me if I admitted to the manicure thing,” he complained.

“And you believed me?” Peter said. “Tsk, tsk. What are you up to, Mr. Osborn?”

“Why do I have to be up to something, Mr. Parker?” Harry asked, perching on the edge of Peter’s table. The student at the next table shot them a dirty look, but Peter barely noticed. Harry had a look in his eyes that was giving him pause, despite the bright, cheery smile pasted on his face.

“Because I know you,” Peter snorted and Harry’s grin widened as he tilted his head in a little guilty gesture.

“Okay, so I’m up to something,” he said. “Listen, what do you say tomorrow, you, me, and MJ all go on an adventure?”

“An adventure, huh?” Peter asked, finally putting his book down. He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back. “Kind of short notice. What’d you have in mind?”

“Get this,” Harry said, holding his hands up. “ESU’s answer to the three musketeers will finally be able to solve the mystery that has plagued scholars for thousands of years: just what _is_ the best pizza in New York?”

Peter whistled, drawing a smattering of glares.

“That’s a tall order,” he said. “So what are you thinking? We head downtown, hit up Leo’s, or that place, what was the name, the one Spider-Man swung through chasing the Shocker last year?”

Technically, Peter was banned from that place, but that was only in the mask and what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

“No, no, no!” Harry said, shaking his head dramatically. “You’re thinking too small, Pete! I’m talking about the _best_ pizza in _all_ of New York – something different, something new! I read about this place online –”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Peter said, leaning forward, “because if you think for one second you’re going to get me to eat pepperoni with, I don’t know, gold flakes on it –”

“It’s a total hole in the wall, not a tablecloth in sight, you’ll love it,” Harry said. “Come on, don’t you think I learned my lesson after Dad’s last birthday party?”

“Okay,” Peter said. “I’ll bite. Where is this mythical pizza place?”

“Staten Island,” Harry said after a pause for dramatic effect. He looked pleased with himself.

“Oh, hell no,” Peter said. “There is no way you are making me go to Staten Island.”

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe you’re making me go to Staten Island,” Peter said, standing in the terminal with his hands tucked into his pockets, waiting for the ferry.

“Hey, no complaining!” Harry said, bouncing on his heels. He was pink-cheeked and grinning, looking for all the world like an excited puppy. “You lost that coin toss fair and square. Oh, look, there’s MJ!”

Peter turned in the direction Harry was pointing and felt himself start to smile. Mary Jane’s hair was windswept, hanging loosely around her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled in the afternoon light. She was wearing the pale pink leather jacket Harry had gotten her for Christmas and the necklace Peter had gotten her for her birthday.

“Hello, boys,” she said, first leaning up on her toes to smack a kiss to Harry’s cheek and then turning towards Peter to do the same. He tilted his head at the last second so their lips met instead, reaching down to tuck his hands into her back pockets.

“Hello, yourself,” he said as she laughed.

“Hey!” Harry protested. “No mushy stuff, lovebirds! We’re on a mission here! We’re _New Yorkers_ , by God.”

“MJ’s from Pennsylvania,” Peter said, pulling her in close and chasing the taste of her raspberry lip balm.

“So I’m a convert,” she said, leaning back. She gave him one light warning smack on the shoulder. “Sue me.”

“You’re making me go to Staten Island,” Peter pointed out to Harry as MJ disentangled herself from him. “I don’t know if you count as a New Yorker anymore.”

“Don’t mind him, Harry,” Mary Jane said, slipping her arm into his. “I, for one, am ready to stuff my face with New York’s best pizza.”

“See?” Harry said. “MJ believes in our mission.”

“Who said I didn’t believe?” Peter said. “Just because it’s on _Staten Island_ , that doesn’t mean I don’t believe.”

“Snob,” Harry and MJ said together.

Harry practically threw his hands in the air when the ferry came in, and as unexcited as he was about being dragged to Staten Island for pizza of all things on a day when he could have been studying or swinging, Peter had to admit (privately, to himself, because Harry was dragging him to Staten Island) he was glad to see how energetic he was. He’d been – Peter didn’t know, lately. Distant. Withdrawn. Listless.

But today the old Harry, the one who’d loved to come over so he could watch cartoons on the crappy old television in Aunt May’s kitchen, was back with the force of a hurricane, and just watching him as he bounced on his heels made Peter want to smile.

“Are you gonna behave?” Mary Jane whispered as they boarded the ferry, Harry bounding ahead of them like they were headed for the promised land.

“Am I going to --?” he repeated, raising his eyebrows. “What?”

“You know,” MJ said. She poked him in the chest, right over where the spider would be if he was wearing his suit under his clothes. Which he was. “No thwip thwip. This is Harry’s day.”

“He’s dragging me to Staten Island, MJ,” Peter said. Mary Jane frowned at him so he held up his hands and said, “Alright, alright, no thwip thwip. I’ll be good.”

“Guys, come look at this view! Isn’t this amazing?” Harry called out.

“I’ve seen better,” Peter said, ambling over to him.

“Where?” Harry asked, rolling his eyes. “On a postcard?”

“You’re acting like you’ve never ridden the ferry before,” Peter said, leaning on the railing. “Oh yeah, I forgot, Richie Rich, you haven’t.”

“It’s nice that one of us can still find pleasure in the small things. You know, like your bank account,” Harry said loftily. He didn’t bother to try to hide the smile on his face as he gazed at the receding buildings, the sunlight glinting off his expensive sunglasses. Peter leaned against him, putting enough weight into it that Harry started to list to the side. He laughed. “Get off already.”

“Well, from here you can’t see the rats,” Peter allowed, nudging Harry’s shoulder with his own before he let up. It _was_ nice, though, the kind of crisp winter day where everything felt bright and clean, the sun shining down strong enough to chase the chill away. The light glinted off the tall buildings of Peter’s city, the one he knew better than anyone else, and he was standing with two of his favorite people in the world. He really couldn’t complain.

He couldn’t, but he was still going to.

He opened his mouth to get in a good crack about the big apple when he looked down and saw that Harry’s hands were trembling.

“You’re cold,” Peter said. He unwound the scarf from around his neck. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, laughing as Peter adjusted it for him, making sure it was high up enough on Harry’s neck. He was paler than usual, and Peter thought maybe it was a good idea that they were going on this adventure after all, if it would get Harry some sun. Too much time in the library, he thought, hitting the law books.

“Better?” Peter asked.

“Much,” Harry said. He raised a hand to touch the scarf. “Did May knit this?”

“How could you tell?” Peter asked. “The lumpy stitches or the maroon and teal color combination?”

“I like it,” Harry said, laughing. “It smells like – I don’t know. It smells like a home.”

“That bad, huh?” Peter said. “Well, I’ve never washed it, so.”

“Jerk,” Harry said, smiling at him from underneath May’s knitted maroon and teal octopus. “I’m really glad we’re doing this. Feels like forever since we’ve had a day just for the three amigos.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ve been pretty busy trying to graduate,” Peter said. “Not that you would know anything about that, Mr. Pre-Law.”

Harry’s smile fell for a second, and when it came back it had that distinctly pasted on look, like the one he wore in the portrait of him and his father that hung in their penthouse. Peter instantly regretted opening his big mouth.

“Listen, Pete, I know I haven’t been around a lot lately,” Harry said. “But I promise you, it has nothing to do with us. I _want_ to be around.” He broke off, chuckling, as he looked away. “Believe me, you have no idea how much I want to be around.”

“Hey,” Peter said, touching his arm. “It’s okay, Har. How many times have I skipped out on you? As far as I’m concerned, the debt is far from paid. And like I said, we’re all busy. It’s just part of growing up, right? But we’ll get through this. MJ and I know you love us.”

“We love who?” Mary Jane asked, jumping on Peter’s back from behind. He slipped his hands under her thighs while she got a stranglehold worse than some villains he’d faced around his neck.

“Harry,” he said. “Remember, Harry Osborn? We went to Midtown High with him? Puts pomade that costs more than my impending student loans in his hair every morning?”

“Some of us have a thing called personal style,” Harry said.

“Oh, _that_ Harry,” Mary Jane said, taking advantage of Peter’s strength and spidey-stickiness to lean precariously off of him and obnoxiously kiss Harry’s cheek, knocking his sunglasses askew. “Gorgeous Harry! Brilliant Harry! We do love that Harry.”

“Gross, get off,” Harry said, pushing her away. But he was laughing, color high in his cheeks, and the fake smile Peter had seen his father bring out of his a hundred times before was nowhere to be seen, so Peter considered their job done. “You clowns keep this up and I won’t pay for the pizza.”

 

* * *

 

“Well, I see the abandoned lot, alright,” Peter said, shielding his eyes against the sun. “No pizza, though.”

“Maybe that rat over there can tell us where to get some,” Mary Jane said.

“I don’t understand,” Harry said, frowning down at his phone. “This is the right address.”

“Maybe it’s like one of those secret clubs,” Peter said, sweeping a hand out. “If we knock three times on that dumpster over there and say the password, the pizza will be delivered to us in thirty minutes or it’s free.”

“Secret pizza club?” Mary Jane asked, laughing. “Is that a thing?”

“If it isn’t, I’m about to strike it rich,” Peter said. “Okay, Harry, the place clearly isn’t here – what do you say we hop back on the ferry and get some actual _Manhattan_ pizza?”

“A _ha_ ,” Harry said, still scrolling through his phone. “I found it! They moved locations. The new place is…” He looked up, guilt clear as day on his face. “Uhh…”

“Harry, I swear to God,” Peter said. “If you tell me we’re going to New Jersey –”

“It’s just across the island!” Harry said. “Look, we can get a – okay, we can get two busses.” He squinted down at the screen. “I think. Is there, uh, is there an emoji for a pedicab now?”

“Okay, that’s it,” Peter said, catching MJ’s hand in his own. “Show’s over, let’s go. I’ve got a chemistry paper I need to repeatedly beat my head against and this is going nowhere.”

“Oh, come on! How many more days are we going to have like this?” Harry said. “Where we can just take off, searching for pizza? Just the three of us, together?”

“Because we’re graduating in a few months,” Peter allowed, feeling his shoulders start to slump. Forget the pizza adventures, he had no idea how he was going to balance Spider-Man with the rest of his life going forward, once he left ESU’s halls for good. It had taken him so long to hit a rhythm – school, Spider-Man, friends, family, _Mary Jane_ \-- and now he was about to hit the reset button on that precarious spider’s web all over again.

“Yeah, Pete,” Harry said, staring at the ground. “Because we’re going to be graduating.”

Peter tilted his head back, staring up at the sky as he sighed. “I don’t know…”

Mary Jane touched his arm.

“We did come this far already, Pete,” she pointed out. “What’s the harm in going a little further?”

“I hate it when you make sense,” Peter said. “Okay, lead on, Harry, but I’m warning you, this had better be the best pizza I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

 

* * *

 

“This is, without a doubt, and I want you to know that I have never meant anything more in my life,” Peter said, his hand pressed to his heart, “the worst pizza I have ever put in my mouth. Oh my God. This is so bad.”

“It’s not the _worst_ ,” Mary Jane hedged, poking at the slice on her plate like it might come alive at any second, like some kind of knockoff Kraft facehugger.

“Take another bite and say that to my face,” Peter challenged her.

Mary Jane hesitated mid-poke.

“I had a lot of popcorn at that place we stopped at when Harry couldn’t get wifi,” she said, pushing her plate away.

“It’s not that bad,” Harry mumbled, clearly trying to scrape the cheese that was both gummy and cold off the roof of his mouth with his tongue while he talked. “Do you remember those little oven pizzas Pete’s aunt used to make for us when we were in high school?”

“Oh, no, you do not get to make me eat the worst pizza in the world and then bring my aunt’s good name into this,” Peter said.

“Yeah, Harry, I have to side with Pete on this one,” MJ said, leaning into Peter. She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, squeezing. “Those were bad, but this is _really_ bad.”

“This is why they moved, you know,” Peter said, “out of shame.”

The burly man behind the counter glared at him, but only because he knew it was the truth.

“Say it, Harry,” Peter said. “I want you to say it. Say this is the worst thing you’ve ever put in your mouth.”

“MJ dared me to eat dirt in seventh grade,” Harry protested. “This is better than that!”

Peter stared at him.

“A little better than that,” Harry admitted.

“Finally,” Peter said, “I know what misery tastes like. Harry Osborn, you’ve done it again.”

“Peter Parker,” Harry said, grinning. “When you look back on this moment, years from now, that’s how I want you to remember me: not as Harry Osborn, handsome devil and your best friend, but as the guy you ate the worst pizza in New York with.”

“Oh, please,” Peter said. “We’ll have to come here every year, like a pilgrimage.”

“That’d be nice,” Harry said, smile softening as he looked at him. “I’d like that.”

“Come on,” Peter said, getting up from the table. “Let’s go home. At least nothing else can go wrong.”

 

* * *

 

“I mean,” Harry said, “what were the odds that second bus would break down too?”

“Shh, we’ve entered the no talking zone,” Peter said, pillowing his cheek on Mary Jane’s hair as she snored. “Please zip your lips and enjoy the ride.”

They were on the last ferry back to Manhattan, and the clock was pushing midnight. With Peter’s luck, the way their night was going, the ferry would probably run into a stray iceberg. It was a miracle they’d even made the ferry after the two broken down busses, the one local that had gotten stuck in traffic, and the Uber driver who’d shown up with her potbelly pig in the front scene, saying she just needed to make a quick stop at the vet’s.

Web-swinging, Peter thought. Web-swinging was definitely the best idea he’d ever had.

“Well, that was one last hurrah for the three amigos, huh?” Peter said. “Burnt toast and cold American cheese.”

“I still say it wasn’t that bad,” Harry said. “And I had fun, anyway. I think this is the most public transportation I’ve ever been on.”

“Please don’t be proud of that,” Peter groaned. He nudged Harry’s elbow with his own. “How’s your ankle? I’ve never seen anyone trip on thin air before.”

“It’s better,” Harry said, laughing. “You didn’t have to give me a piggyback ride.”

“Couldn’t have you slowing us down,” Peter said. He said it like a joke, but he could still feel Harry pressed up against his back, warm through his winter coat, Peter's hands tucked behind his knees, and the sudden thought that he'd carry Harry forever, if that was what Harry needed. “Otherwise we’d have missed the ferry. It’s no problem, you know that. You should put some ice on it when you get home.”

“Worrywart,” Harry said, still laughing, until abruptly it shifted into coughing. He bent over his fist as Peter rubbed at his back.

“Yeah, okay, hurting your point there,” Peter said. “I worry exactly the right amount.”

“Shh,” Mary Jane said, burying her face in Peter’s shoulder. “Sleeping off the bad pizza.”

Gradually, Harry’s coughs turned back into laughter, but it was soft this time. He straightened up, leaning back against Peter. For a long moment, everything was quiet – there was just the noise of some other passenger behind them talking on his cellphone, the sound of the water, Mary Jane’s soft snores and Harry’s breathing. Peter could let himself be lulled into a false sense of security this way, staring out as Manhattan’s skyscrapers got closer and closer. From all the way out here it looked like a storybook city, something out of a movie, where there were never any Rhinos or Scorpions or supervillains, and maybe no Spider-Man either, and nothing ever went wrong.

It was a nice thought, for as long as it ever lasted.

“Look at all the lights,” Harry said drowsily, his head listing to the side until it rested on Peter’s shoulder. Peter put an arm around him before he slid off the seat. “Isn’t it beautiful, Pete?”

Normally, when Peter looked at Manhattan’s skyline, all he could think about was that people had no idea what they were missing. He’d had every view of it a person could – up, down, and sideways, bird’s eye and subway rat’s, and there was nothing like the thrill of zipping between buildings at night, the lights of Times Square whirling by and giving way to grand architecture. The full body experience of throwing himself off the Empire State Building with the wind whipping by, a wild ride that came to an abrupt stop with a flick of his wrist. A dance between him and the city.

Normally.

Right now, with Harry’s head on his shoulder and MJ pressed up against his side, his hand caught up in both of hers, Peter thought this view was pretty good.

“You know what,” he said. “It was pretty good pizza, Harry.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://traincat.tumblr.com)!


End file.
